


Five Times Bitty Defied All Expectations (And the one time they all Knew)

by There_Once_Was_A_Girl



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Badass!Bitty, Crack, Fluff, I wrote this instead of studying, M/M, This is ridiculous, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/There_Once_Was_A_Girl/pseuds/There_Once_Was_A_Girl
Summary: What it says on the Tin. Bitty is a lot stronger, a lot more badass... etc than people expect. So yeah, this is that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I was thinking about what if Bitty's family in the south was a bit more redneck than him, and then was thinking about the fact that Bitty could very possibly know how to use a gun, and I wanted to write something in which Bitty is good with guns and Jack is just in shock because what the fuck? And then it expanded past that. This is just silliness that I wrote earlier this week while trying to avoid studying.
> 
> As always everything belongs to Ngozi. Hope you enjoy this!

One:

Bitty knows all of the guys think of him as nothing but a little southern boy afraid of taking a hit. He’s perfectly happy to let them think it. It’s mostly true after all. He’s small, he’s a southern gentleman, and when people come at him on the ice he tends to freeze up. There’s no particular reason for him to make them think any differently of him. Besides he likes that they just see him as the happy little southern baker who’s fast on skates. It’s better than down in Georgia where… well, he had had a couple different reputations, and none of them were things he was particularly proud of. So, Bitty lets everyone draw their own assumptions and gets himself a reputation as sweet and unassuming.

Then one day the guys all drive up to Boston to see an art exhibit with Lardo. Bitty is walking with Shitty after getting sidetracked by checking out a pastry shop. Everyone had agreed to meet back up at the museum after wandering around. Shitty had agreed to stay with Bitty. They’re cutting through an alley when a guy comes up behind Bitty and grabs his messenger bag, trying to take off with it. Bitty doesn’t even think. He hangs onto the bag, and punches the guy in the face, then kicks him hard in the side. It’s all over in less than a minute, the guy scrambling back down the alley with a broken nose. Bitty sighs as he looks down at his hand, his knuckles are a little scraped up. He tugs his handkerchief out of his pocket and ties it around his hand gently. 

“Bitty…?” Shitty asks slowly. “What… the fuck?” Bitty turns to look at him and finds his friend white-faced and wide-eyed. He had forgotten. Forgotten that his friends here have never seen him in a fight. 

“Sorry about that!” He exclaims. “Oh lord, I didn’t mean to freak you out! I’ve just got a lot of important things in this bag, you know? Please don’t be freaked out.”

“Are you… apologizing for fighting off a mugger?” Shitty asks. Bitty blushes and shrugs. 

“Maybe. I know fighting isn’t very pretty. I freaked people out if they saw me get in a fight in Georgia. After we moved I kinda earned a reputation as a bit… well, a bit violent. It’s not that I like hurting folks or anything! It’s just I don’t hold back. When you deal with the kind of people I did when I was growing up you learn that you put everything behind a punch and if someone is down, you kick him and run. Apparently it’s not particularly sporting.” 

“You… had a reputation as… violent…?” Shitty asks, looking shocked. Bitty blushes again. 

“Only around some people, honestly they were the violent ones. I only ever hit people who hit me first. I just got sick of getting beat up, so I started fighting back. I still lost a lot, most boys are bigger than me, and there was usually a few of them. But after a while, they realized it wasn’t worth it to start a fight when they really just wanted a punching bag. They didn’t expect me to punch back.” Bitty says apologetically. “But, oh Lord, Shitty you can’t tell the others! I don’t want anyone to worry about me, or be freaked out by me. I hated people thinking I fought nasty!” He pleads. Shitty stares at him for a moment, and then grins. 

“You are one tough mother fucker Itty-Bitty!” He exclaims, throwing an arm around him. “That was fucking badass! Like, I’m sorry you had to learn to fight out of necessity, that sucks and if you ever need someone to talk to you know where to find me, but you were really cool right there bro. However, if anyone asks, you tripped and fell and scraped your hand on a brick wall.” He says. 

“Oh thanks, Shitty.” Bitty says, breathing a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Don’t worry. I shall never tell anyone about your secret badassery.” Shitty assures him. 

Throughout the rest of the day Bitty catches Shitty glancing at his hand, like he’s a little in awe. It doesn’t make Bitty as uncomfortable as he thought it would. After that day Bitty notices Shitty hovers a little less. He trust Bitty to take care of himself a little more. Then one day Shitty comes up to him and asks. 

“Hey, Bits? Can you teach me to throw a punch?” He asks. “Not that I approve of violence or want to start fights, but I’ve kinda realized I know nothing about self-defense. I mean, I never really drop gloves on the ice. I’ve never been in a proper fight.”

“Of course!” Bitty agrees. “Honestly, when it comes to self defense it all depends on the situation. Usually you aren’t going to want to go with a straight up punch to the face, especially with not much experience you might just break your hands. You can always punch people in the gut, or better, the throat. There are a few tricks I can definitely show you.” He says chipperly, 

“Cool, awesome.” Shitty agrees, nodding. 

“You go wait out back. I’ll just get these cookies in the oven and then I’ll join you.” Bitty says with a smile. He supposes Shitty finding out that he can fight isn’t the worst thing that could happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two:  
The second time it happens Bitty’s in the Haus with the frogs. They’re arguing about something. 

“Dex, it’s weird to just have a fucking knife on you all the time!” Nursey exclaims. He turns to Bitty. “Bitty! Tell him, tell him it’s weird to just always have a knife in your pocket.” He pleads. Bitty chuckles. 

“What like this?” He asks, pulling his own pocket knife out of his jeans. Nursey stares at him in horror. 

“Bitty… no… why?” He asks. 

“They’re useful, besides, most pocket knives could never be used as weapons. Admittedly mine is too big to take into, a high school or something, but it comes in handy.” Bitty answers, grinning at the look on Nursey’s face. Bitty learned from an uncle that pocket knives are easy to have with him. 

“I am just astonished at you. Bitty that knife is the size of your hand!” Nursey protests. Bitty laughs.

“It’s four inches, Nurse. Calm down.” He says rolling his eyes and tucking his knife back into his pocket. “Anyway I started carrying one because when I was little my dad took me camping a lot. They’re really useful. After that it became habit.” 

“You never really struck me as the camping type.” Dex says in surprise. Bitty shrugs. 

“I think he was doing his best to make up for me never doing Boy Scouts. My mom hates the Boy Scouts.” He says. 

“Huh… cool… Just like, don’t stab anyone.” Nursey says grumpily. Dex grins and lifts a hand. Bitty chuckles and high-fives him. 

“Y’all act like I’m some sort of child or something.” He says rolling his eyes. 

“No, more like our mother-figure. In that you take care of us all and are sweet and loving. Then all of a sudden mom pulls out a knife.” Nursey protests. Bitty rolls his eyes thinking that it’s a damn good thing these boys have never seen him in a proper fight or they’d be completely disillusioned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three:  
The third time. It’s ice skating. Everyone who has skated in any way has a lot of respect for figure skaters. Some hockey bros might discount it as a sissy sort of sport but most of them realize that it’s fucking insane. It takes a crazy amount of strength and precision. It’s fucking nuts. Bitty has always been proud of his time spent figure skating. He had loved it, and he had been good at it. He refuses to be ashamed of it, not even the sparkly outfits. 

So when he comes into the Haus to see the guys watching figure skating he joins them with a smile. It’s a beautiful performance. A pairs skate. Bitty hadn’t skated pairs in competition many times. They had never been able to find him the right partner, so he always scored better in singles, but he had always enjoyed skating with a partner. 

“That shit is fucking insane man.” Holster says shaking his head. “Like, fucking crazy. I feel like I would topple over doing like, half of this shit and I know my way around the ice.” 

“Right?” Ransom demands. “And like, even if I could lift someone above my head while twirling around on ice skates, and then throw them… I would not. Like, this person has knives on their feet. I don’t want them above my head. Nope.” 

“Oh but lifts are fun!” Bitty protests. They all turn to stare at him. He shrinks down. 

“What?” He demands. 

“You can do that shit?” Shitty demands, gesturing at the TV.

“Well, I was never that good, and I’m definitely not anymore, but yeah. You knew that.” Bitty says. 

“I thought you skated singles.” Jack says softly. 

“Well, I did, mostly. But I did skate pairs a couple times too.” Bitty says looking down. “It was nice.”

“I demand video evidence.” Holster announces. Bitty laughs and pulls his laptop out of his bag. It takes a little bit of searching through old stuff to find a decent video but eventually he pulls up a video and turns the screen towards his friends. He has always been proud of this particular routine. It had gone perfectly. He had thought that he had finally found the right partner, but then the girl, Emily, had moved. After that Bitty had given in and just skated singles. The guys watch in awe as the Bitty onscreen skates. There were several lifts in the routine, including one in which Bitty did lift Emily up and then throw her out spinning, she landed it perfectly into a perfect spin, at least she did on the video they had messed it up a million times in practice. He had been so proud. He remembers Katya making them run through the lifts again and again until his arms ached and her core, and ankles were nearly shot. 

“Bitty… How is that… HOw are you that strong?” Holster demands. “YOU’RE LIKE HALF OF ME! HOW?!” Bitty laughs. 

“Well I couldn’t lift up any of you, y’all are all awkwardly tall. Emily was about the same size as me so it was easy enough. Here Lardo, come here.” Bitty says. She stares at him for a moment and then stands. He grabs her and lifts her above his head. It’s not particularly easy since she doesn’t have the best balance but it works. 

“See. It’s not hard when you’re working with someone as little as Lardo.” Bitty says with a shrug. They’re all still watching him with awe in their eyes. Then several of them all start talking at once.

“But on ice skates!”

“Spinning like a crazy mother fucker!”

“YOU THREW HER!” 

Bitty just laughs. “I play hockey just like the rest of y’all. You think I was weak?” He asks. 

“We didn’t think you were weak!” Shitty protests. “We just didn’t realize you were a witch either.” 

“Can you still do any of that?” Jack asks, eyes very focused. Bitty smirks. 

“Some.” He admits. 

“You’ll have to show me sometime.” Jack says, and that sounds like Jack Zimmermann flirting with him, except Jack Zimmermann can’t be flirting with him. Bitty is gonna die. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four:

The fourth time is back home in Georgia. There’s always a big Bittle family gathering at his grandparents for fourth of July. Bitty can’t help being nervous about Jack being there. 

“You really don’t have to come to the party today if you don’t want.” He tells Jack, for the third time. 

“Bits, are you embarrassed to introduce me to your family or something?” Jack asks, sounding worried. “If you don’t want me there-”

“No!” Bitty yelps, because he always wants Jack around. “It’s just… Well my grandparents are a little… redneck sometimes.” He admits. 

“I can handle it.” Jack promises. 

“I’m serious, Jack.” Bitty tells him. “Pawpaw is a country man, he’s a redneck and a gun man.” 

“Is he going to shoot me?” Jack asks gently. Bitty shakes his head. 

“Of course, not! Bittles are great about gun safety!” He says quickly. 

“Then I’ll be fine.” Jack reassures him. There was something about Bitty’s last statement that sticks in his mind though. He forgets about it until they’re at the party. It’s about halfway through when Bitty’s grandfather catches them. 

“Dicky!” He says brightly. “And this is your friend-”

“Jack.” Bitty fills in. 

“Jack, good to meet you son.” Richard Bittle says with a smile. “You participating in our games today?”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Sir.” Jack says politely. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on the game.” He says. The old man grins. 

“Dicky didn’t tell you?” He asks. Bitty shakes his head a little. “Oh, well, come on down to the basement, we’ll get you set. If anyone can teach you, well, it’s my grandson.” He claps Bitty on the back as he says it. Bitty blushes. 

“Don’t be silly, you’re the best, Pawpaw.” He says. His grandfather just laughs. 

“You’ve won every year you’ve competed, Dicky!” 

“Only since you stopped competing.” Bitty says meekly. “And Jack hasn’t ever-”

“No time like the present to learn eh?” Richard asks. “Come on boys! Follow me!” He announces to the party at large. A lot of Bittles make their way towards the stairs to the basement in an orderly fashion. 

“What game are you talking about?” Jack asks, starting to get nervous. Bitty sighs. 

“The Bittle family shoot-out is what he calls it.” He says, face beet red. “Pawpaw is real proud of his marksmanship, and his gun collection. He teaches every single Bittle how to shoot a gun right, and then every year on the fourth we have a competition to see who is the best marksman. We do handguns, and rifles.” He’s staring at his feet. 

“You… what?” Jack asks. 

“I told you he was a gun nut.” Bitty says. “He used to go hunting a lot too. I went when I was younger. Never shot a deer, just some squirrels. I loved Bambi too much. He always says my aim is wasted on me.” 

Jack is just blinking at Bitty in shock. Suzanne comes over to them with an understanding smile. 

“It’s a bit much I know.” She agrees. “First time I came here, I was overwhelmed. When I first had Dicky I said I’d never let him participate, but Pawpaw is an insistent sort of man. Eventually I just let him teach Dicky to shoot to make him stop pestering us.”

“I didn’t realize that Eric could shoot.” Jack says awkwardly. Bitty sighs. 

“I know, it’s so darn southern hick.” He says, shaking his head. “But it makes Pawpaw happy, and well… I’m really good at it.” He admits. By the time Jack has wrapped his head around it the participating Bittles are already headed out into the wide field behind the house. Richard Bittle emerges from the basement with a gun and box of ammo in one hand and a rifle in the other. 

“Grabbed your guns for you, Dicky.” He says offering the pistol to Bitty. Bitty takes it easily, immediately pointing it down and away from anyone in the room and checking that it’s empty before doing anything else. 

“Here you are Jack, you can carry Dicky’s rifle and ammo until he’s ready for it.” Richard adds offering them to Jack. Jack takes the gun hesitantly, holding it gingerly away from him. 

“City boy, aren’t you?” Richard asks. 

“Yes, Sir.” Jack agrees. “I’ve never held a gun before in my life.” 

“Well I’m sure our boy can teach you, how. Damn natural he is.” Richard says before heading out into the fields. Jack blinks after him for another moment. Bitty is looking at Jack with some concern. 

“Jack, you okay, honey?” He asks, gently. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want. You definitely don’t have to learn to shoot. He’s just… like that. Here you want me to take the gun?” 

“No.” Jack says surprising himself. “I think I want to see this. It’s a part of your life, eh? You’re good at this. I want to understand.” Bitty nods. 

“Okay, well if it bothers you at all you let me know and we can just go home. I already know I’m a better shot than everyone here.” He says. Jack chuckles. 

“Oh, arrogant are we?” He asks. Bitty blushes and shrugs. “So these are actually yours?” He asks, looking at the guns. 

“Yeah. I mean, they stay here in PawPaw’s gun safe since I don’t have a single reason to bring them home with me, I only shoot when I’m here. Or occasionally I’ll go to a range with Coach, but we just stop by for them before we go. Pawpaw always says I can take them with me anytime. They were gifts from him after all, but I like them locked up downstairs. Having a gun in your house for self-defense is silly. If you have a gun you’re just more likely to get shot.” Bitty says, rolling his eyes. 

“That sounds… reasonable.” Jack says helplessly. In the end he knows next to nothing about guns. 

He soon learns that Bitty on the other hand is very good with guns. He watches as Bitty destroys his family members, hitting his targets dead center with nearly every shot. He stands with easy confidence, like he was made to do this. Jack takes a couple pictures, just so he can remember that this really did happen. It’s so hard to reconcile this Bitty, who takes aim and fires with easy confidence, not a single flinch at the ridiculously loud bangs, with the boy who used to curl up on the ice whenever someone skated his direction. Jack is starting to realize that he should give up on trying to predict Eric Bittle. He never seems to follow the patterns people set out in front of him. It’s one of the reasons why Jack loves him. After the competition is over Bitty proudly signs and dates the trophy. The trophy is, inexplicably, an old bowling plaque that has the names of countless Bittles scrawled on the back. Bitty shows Jack the names near the end where Bitty’s signature is scrawled next to every year since 2010. 

“You really are good at this.” Jack says with a smile. “It’s really impressive, Bits.” Bitty blushes. 

“Really?” He asks. “You don’t think it’s silly? Or well, redneck?”

“Well, it’s a little redneck.” Jack laughs. “But not in a bad way. Guns scare me to be honest. Never really wanted to shoot one, but it’s just another skill eh?” He says. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Bitty says. “It’s fun in it’s own way. So that means you don’t want to learn?” He asks. Jack nods. 

“I am perfectly happy to let you handle all the guns.” He says with a smile. Bitty laughs. 

“Alrighty. We can go lock these up, and then once it gets a bit darker I’ll drive you out to my favorite spot to watch fireworks.” He says with a smile. Jack nods, watching his boyfriend in wonder. He’ll never stop being astonished by this boy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five:

No one knows what the Yale player says to Bitty. No one else was close enough to hear it. They just know that one moment they’re all playing, and the next Bitty’s gloves are hitting the ice and the guy from Yale is struggling to put up a fight against the onslaught. The Samwell guys all watch in astonishment. No one has ever seen Bitty drop his gloves before. In the stands Jack and Shitty are on their feet, looking equally worried and proud. After a few long seconds in which the ref skates over and starts yelling, Ransom and Holster seem to realize that if they don’t stop Bitty he’s going to get more than just a penalty. It takes them and two more guys to drag Bitty out of the fight. Bitty gets kicked out of the game. 

The team can only watch in astonishment later as Hall tears Bitty apart for doing something so stupid. Jack and Shitty have joined them. Everyone watching with a mixture of awe and horror. Bitty sits through all of it with a serene expression, despite the bruise forming on his cheek and his doubtlessly torn up hands.

“What do you have to say for yourself?!” Hall demands. 

“He deserved it.” Bitty answers. With that he stands up and heads for the showers. Hall is struck dumb and joins his team in just staring. 

“What the hell did he say?” Hall asks weakly. 

“We’ll never know.” Shitty says. “He’ll never tell us, not if it was that bad.”

“I just didn’t even know Bittle was capable of that.” Hall says sounding nearly impressed. 

“He’s capable of a lot more than people expect.” Jack says, smiling. “He’s full of surprises, our Bitty. Just learn not to underestimate him, because if you push him, he pushes back.” He can’t help but be proud. He knows Bitty would never start a fight if it was uncalled for. Bitty’s not a violent person, so if the Yale guy had really said something bad enough to make him violent, the guy probably had deserved it. 

“He definitely does, that beautiful bastard.” Shitty agrees. Everyone else just nods, silently agreeing, never to test Eric Bittle. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

+1  
They’re all in the Haus living room the morning after one of the biggest kegsters the team has ever thrown. After all Samwell has just won the NCAA Championship. They deserved to party. It’s Bitty’s senior year, but all his old teammates had come back to celebrate him bringing the team the win. They had all found various places throughout the Haus to crash for the night. Now they’re all sitting in the living room with plates of pancakes, Bitty, Jack, Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, Holster, Dex, Nursey, Chowder, Whiskey, and Tango. A mix of his older team and his current one. He doesn’t know how they get onto the topic of zombies, and the best strategies to have in the Zombie apocalypse but it’s Shitty that asks the question. 

“So, Zombie Apocalypse and you’re allowed to team up with one person in this room. Who would you choose to have the best shot at surviving?” He demands. Everyone glances around and all the older team members say: “Bitty.” All at once. 

Soon they’re all bickering over who would help Bitty the most, who he should chose to be his partner. Whiskey is watching them like they’re all insane and Tango is staring at them in complete confusion. 

“Why?” He asks Whiskey who ignores him. “Is it because he can cook?” 

Bitty just watches the chaos and bargaining with a smile on his face. Finally, when Ransom and Holster actually start wrestling he calls them off. 

“Oh shush. Y’all know I wouldn’t leave any of you behind. I’d take care of my team.” He tells them. “Now eat your pancakes before they get cold.” He adds sternly. They all laugh… well, everyone except Tango, who just seems confused.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay basically if I could draw I would draw fanart of Eric Bittle standing in front of the rest of the SMH team with an assault rifle fighting off an army of zombies as his teammates cower in fear. But I can't draw. Anyway... I'm not a gun person. I just found the idea of this amusing. 
> 
> Incidentally part two is inspired by this tumblr post:
>
>>   
> Both Bitty and Dex carry pocket knives on their persons at all times.  
> “Dex, omg you CAN’T BRING A KNIFE TO CLASS WHAT THE HECK!!! Bitty, tell him!”  
> *Bitty frowns and produces a Swiss army knife from his back pocket. It’s attached to his keyring. It jingles.* “What, like this?”  
> “BITTY NOOOOO!!!”  
> Source: dontthinkaboutzimbits  
> 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!


End file.
